


Run Away With Me

by NalgeneWhore



Series: Rowcan One Shots [1]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Canon, Light Angst, M/M, they just wanna b married and free to b gay and shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22763326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NalgeneWhore/pseuds/NalgeneWhore
Summary: tumblr prompt: Where’s the gay content Isa 🤧 dyin out here fam
Relationships: Lorcan Salvaterre/Rowan Whitethorn
Series: Rowcan One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636585
Kudos: 13





	Run Away With Me

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr prompt: Where’s the gay content Isa 🤧 dyin out here fam

He wakes up to an empty bed. It is cold, the windows open and he shivers when the sheets slip down as he slowly swings himself out of bed. He slept bare, the warmth of his lover beside him enough for the bed they occupied.

Well-earned soreness creeps into his limbs as he stands and stretches. His muscles are stiff as he tugs on a pair of loose-fitting pants and pads to the main area of the apartment they own in Orynth.

Something about the city and country appeals to him and Rowan, something about the brisk air and slumbering calm. It feels like home to them both. As he emerges from the bedroom, he scans the room to his right. There is a black couch and two matching armchairs, not quite big enough for two males but they don’t mind the snug fit. There is a coffee table, books and various papers strewn about it. Every element directs to the fireplace, something the both of them have a soft spot for.

Lorcan finds Rowan in the kitchen, standing at the sink and looking out to the Staghorns. Rowan has a mug of coffee in his hands and Lorcan spies another waiting for him on the counter. It’s a careless and meaningless gesture, but it still has his heart feeling far too big for his chest.

Rowan remains silent and unmoving, though Lorcan knows he can hear exactly what is happening and most likely heard the moment he woke up. Lorcan stays quiet as he approaches and picks up his mug, turning and leaning back against the counter. His eyes trace Rowan’s face, so serious with his lowered brow and the corners of his mouth tilted down. His green eyes are a storm, a swirling sea of emotion as he refuses to meet Lorcan’s gaze and continues to glower at the ancient monoliths, acting as though the power of his glare can move them.

The thought has a wry chuckle bubbling from Lorcan’s lips, and he hides his cheeky grin in his mug as he sips from it. Rowan’s glare turns to him and there, there’s the crack in the temper, a slight relaxation as he takes in the sleepy softness of his love so early in the morning. Lorcan smooths his thumb over the furrowed skin between Rowan’s brows, “What is it?”

Rowan sighs and his head hangs low. Slowly, he puts his coffee to the side and toys with the drawstring on Lorcan’s pants, “Aren’t you tired of this?”

It’s a dangerous question and Lorcan’s heart races in fear, his body seizing up as he answers slowly, deliberate in his faked obliviousness, “Tired of what?”

The silver-haired warrior snarls, his teeth bared, “Don’t play dumb. This is the first we’ve seen each other in fifty years, Lorcan. I cannot do this; how can you act like it doesn’t hurt?”

“You think it doesn’t hurt me?” asks Lorcan, his brows snapping down, his temper quick to rear its head. “You don’t think that the only thing that got me through the past half century was knowing that you were doing the _same shit_ for me?” He grits his teeth, clamping down on the urge to explode and lash out, to hurt before he can be hurt. “Ro, I still mean what I said when I married you. “

“We made those promises when we could barely carry our blades, what did we know?” Rowan says, his voice bitter and dismissive.

“I knew that I never wanted to part with you. I knew that my heart was yours and I knew that I would love you forever,” states Lorcan, feeling his heart crumble. He hates the way tears sting his vision and the invisible hand around his neck, squeezing tighter and tighter, his pathetic words, ones of a boy, struggling to claw their way free of his lips. “I always thought you felt the same.”

Rowan growls, his nose wrinkling in his fury, “Don’t you ever think I don’t feel the same things you do. I love you, I _love_ you and you fucking know it.” Their bodies are tensed, and Rowan resents the space between them, put there subconsciously as they draw back to protect themselves. With a muttered curse, Rowan pulls Lorcan to him and claims his lips in a savage embrace, the two males battling for dominance.

Lorcan snarls when Rowan tugs his hair down and winds his fingers in the dark locks, his sharp teeth scraping over Lorcan’s bottom lip. “Run away with me.” The plea escapes him before he can think straight, the feeling of Lorcan’s lips moving against his clouding his mind and fogging his decisions.

Lorcan pushes him back. Their chests heave, their lungs greedily taking in air. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes. Run away with me.”

“She’ll come after us—”

“We’ll run until she can never find us. Please, Lor, run away with me.” His voice almost cracks and Lorcan brushes a soft kiss to his brow, whispering his answer.

It doesn’t take long until they are dressed and stand in the front hallway, Rowan’s hand on the door handle. “There’s no going back after the door opens.”

Lorcan rolls his eyes, taking Rowan’s hand and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles, the silver ring Lorcan placed there a century ago finally in its rightful place. Its twin glints on Lorcan’s own hand, “I would follow you to the ends of the earth, Rowan Whitethorn Salvaterre.” 


End file.
